Origins of Chaos
by Natalie Bleu
Summary: After months of being away from his home, Odin finds something that will forever change his life. Things as Odin knows it will never be the same if he bring home this abandoned child. A story starting from the war and ending...who knows where. Very Brother-centric. Rated T...just to be safe.
1. Prologue

A.N: Hello everyone...This is just a random story that I'm writing because I have too much free time...and what's a better way to spend that free time other than writing!? So, I hope you enjoy! Please tell me if you think I should continue? And if you have any ideas as to where you would like this story to go, then please do tell me!

 _Disclaimer:: I do not own ANYTHING from the Marvel movies, including these characters._

* * *

 _January 965 A.D_

Throughout the nine realms, Jotunheim was always known as a horrid place. It was home to the most foul creatures the worlds had ever seen. They had unpredictable tempers and always tried to start wars with neighboring realms. But the other worlds paid them no mind. They did not fear Jotunheim or the Jotuns that lived there. Why should they? The Frost Giants were ignorant, vile beasts that didn't know the proper tactics to win a war. But after ages upon ages of trying to prove themselves formidable, they stopped. They ceased their pitiful rationale. They lived quietly amongst themselves for quite sometime...

Until at one point, they disappeared. Completely vanished from sight. Heimdall noticed it the moment it happened. He had always kept his gaze a little sharper on Jotunheim, for no one could completely trust the Frost Giants. It would be like them to disappear altogether. However, Jotunheim had not vanished...they had hid themselves from his view. He expected them to reveal themselves eventually, but they didn't appear.

Nevertheless, he didn't fret. He had seen the Jotuns planning attacks multiple times before. It had always been rebels that had done the planning, usually a small group of them. They had big dreams too. Dreams of ruling the worlds and turning them into frozen wastelands, just like Jotunheim. It was pretty pathetic. But their plans had never got too far, for the King of Jotunheim, Laufey, had never approved of it and quickly ceased their scheming. But one thing they had never done before, even when Jotunheim posed a "threat", was hid themselves from Heimdall's view. Or any view for that matter.

However, he waited several days, but nothing happened. At one point their veil dropped, and what he saw, he knew he had to report right away. They had never been this prepared. This perspicuous. What could have changed?

Heimdall left his post, and headed straight toward the palace. It was a rare thing for him to leave his post at the observatory. But a matter like this could wait no longer. He had stalled long enough, having false hope that this was another weak ploy. But this time, this matter was nothing close to false.

* * *

Heimdall strode through the busy streets of Asgard, confused looks being thrown in his direction, and into the palace grounds. As soon as he stepped foot through the threshold of the palace entryway, Heimdall ordered one of the guards to summon their king. From the look on his face and the fact that he was not in the observatory, the guard didn't need an explanation for such a sudden request of the king's presence. He knew that whatever the urgent matter was, it needed their king's intimidate attention.

The guard quickly nodded, and scurried away. Tripping over his boots as he ran to inform the All-father.

Heimdall quickly contemplated about how to approach the All-father with this kind of news. He didn't want the king to think him naive; for him to be disconcerted over Jotunheim's little disappearing act. Heimdall knew that this time was different.

Several moment later, the All-Father appeared with two guards flanking either side of him. He stood tall, as a king should. He displayed a stern and serious look that seemed permanently chiseled onto his face. Years and years of being the king to a powerful, stalwart realm had aged him so.

As Odin All-Father approached, Heimdall kneeled onto one knee, placing his right fit above his heart, showing his loyalty, "All-Father", he said, closing his eyes and bowing before the beloved king.

Odin spoke, "Good Heimdall, what news have you come to bring me? It is to my understanding that it is urgent?" He seemed to have other thoughts going through his mind. No doubt other matters that didn't contend with what Heimdall had to report to him.

Heimdall stood up undeviating and tall, "All-Father, it seems as though one of the nine have concealed themselves from my sight. I have not seen them for quite some time. I mean not to trouble you, but to keep the continuing peace of the realms, I felt the need to inform you at once."

Odin's eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion as to who Heimdall might be referring to, "Which realm is hidden from you, Heimdall? I assure you, it's insubstantial at the moment. There are more pressing matters at hand. However, I thank you for protecting our realm and reporting to me when there might be concern," He didn't seemed convinced of his own words, but nonetheless, put on a confident demeanor. He turned on his heel and started to walk out of the room.

"It's Jotunheim, you highness. They plan war. Soon." Heimdall said, and that's all he needed to. Odin stopped dead in his tracks and stood there for many moments. He gave a weary sigh. Odin turned around, his face impassive, "Keep your eyes on them. Report back to me at once if you learn anymore information. I'll take care of this." And with that, he left the palace room with other plans on his mind.

* * *

At dinner that night, Odin requested that his family eat alone. This tipped off the rest of the palace guards, but they showed no skepticism. They remained quiet.

…

…

…

As the servers finished gathering their empty plates, Odin and Frigga were left to their own thoughts. Thor had run off to his room for the night, eager for his morning training lessons with Tyr.

Odin was deep in thought, starring intently at the wall across from him, while Frigga was staring intently at him; waiting for him to meet her worried eyes.

She took a deep breath and finally spoke up, "You've been quiet all supper. I know when you have something to tell me. What is it that has been plaguing your thoughts all evening?" She had held much concern in her voice; Odin could tell right away that he had to tell her.

"Heimdall has reported an impending war with Jotunheim. Possibly in the next months to come." He said simply, his voice barely over a murmur. He kept his eyes on on the wall, trying to find answer within it perhaps.

Frigga's faced grew worried, "An impending war against Asgard? Why? We haven't had any conflicts with Jotunheim in years. Have you informed the council about this?" She tried to calm herself more before speaking again, "And If not against Asgard, why the other realms? No one has been in contact with Jotunheim for years!" Frigga was lost in thought for a moment before saying,"We can't go to war; there would be much bloodshed with such a short notice."

Odin knew this was true. It couldn't be denied, nor changed. He had to make decisions...soon.

* * *

In the span of twelve days, Heimdall saw nothing more. Heard nothing. Felt nothing. It had seemed as though Jotunheim had completely vanished into thin air. It was unnerving at best.

By that time Odin had had enough. He had no idea what kind of war Jotunheim could be plotting. Or had already plotted. He knew the frost giants were the most unruly and impulsive creatures that had ever walked the nine realms. They could decide to ditch their plans and attack at any moment.

Which is why on that twelfth day after he had received the abrupt news from Heimdall, he called together the Elders of the Northern council, which consisted of: Kristhallr and Olavia of Vanaheim, Eitri and Yri of Nidavellir, Hafur and Bassi of Alfheim, and Odin and Frigga of Asgard.

They had been called into Asgard, requested by the All-father himself. They all sat in the large council hall room. The room had four, enormous, round pillars; each of which stood as tall as the beautiful, embellished ceilings. Flame light illuminated the entire space, giving the hall a warm touch. The council members themselves sat in regal, marble thrones that had a marvelous white and gray swirl.

Odin was the one to speak first, "I have requested your presence today, as we have troubling matters. Heimdall has informed me that Jotunheim is devising an attack against one of the realms. It is uncertain which one they target. They have been concealing themselves from Heimdall's watch, which leads me to believe their plan of attack is true. To prevent any future bloodshed, I feel as though we must be prepared for any actions they take upon us." Odin's gaze meet all the eyes around the table, including Frigga's supportive, understanding face. She gave him a small smile.

Eitri spoke up at once, "Why should we fret about what Jotunheim is planning?" he asked, his accent thick. "Those beasts stand no chance against any of the realms. Even Midgard could win a war against them!" He gave a booming laugh. A couple of the council members averted their gazes; afraid they might start chuckling. They all could imagine the Frost Giants going against mortals.

Eitri's wife Yri interrupted his laughter, an annoyed look aimed at her husband, "What my husband means is...do you truly believe Jotunheim would try to concur one of the realms? And if so, what actions do you believe we should take?" Eitri's silent chuckles completely ceased after his wife's remark, his eyes cased down, as he knew not to comment on this matter anymore.

"We must strengthen our defense, and hope for the best. We need to gather our best warriors and be prepared for anything they might do. I hope you all share the concern I do, and to help protect our realms, as well as our neighboring realms." Odin said.

Kristhallr vocalized his troubled about the situation, "I agree with Odin. If Jotunheim were to break our defenses, we must be ready." He said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "My warriors will be ready as soon as those beasts make their move. I am no coward. I'm ready when you are."

"As am I," remarked his wife, Olavia. "I want to keep the balance between the nine, and if that means going to war with Jotunheim, then so be it."

Throughout this pensive discussion, both Bassi and Hafur kept silent; their eyes meeting each others from across the large, marble table. Both their faces held much worry. Odin looked at them with a curious expression, "Where do you two stand in all of this. If you wish to not be involved, we completely support your discussion. But let it be known, that we will not be able to protect you if Jotunheim decides an attack against your realm."

Hafur was the first to speak, "Odin, we have protected Asgard and you have protected us in return, but we do not want to be apart of this matter. I hope you all can understand." She took a deep breath in as she said this; worried that someone would question her and her husband's faithfulness to the council.

Bassi studied his wife's face for quite some time before he spoke, "Unfortunately, we do not want to put our realm in harms way. Although we can't fight with you..." He glanced at his wife. She gave him a soft smile, completely trusting him, "... we would offer your children and elders sanctuary, if needed."

* * *

Not three weeks later, Jotunheim appeared. It was almost completely void of frost giants except for the few that stayed behind to protect their realm. The warriors of Jotunheim, however, were on Midgard. Destroying everything in their path. They started with the weakest realm. The mortals of Midgard wouldn't be missed, since they had never attained to much. It was an easy target to start with. Who would want to protect weak, little Midgard? But unfortunately for Jotunheim, they were going to be the starting target for another war.

* * *

The Elders of the Northern Council called upon their most durable warriors. Their most gifted sorcerers. Their most proficient craftsman. Their most cunning. Most skilled. Most reliable. Anyone who was able enough to fight, was needed. They even ordered the guards to join them into battle. The woman were to stay and protect their realms, if it came down to that. The children and elders, as promised, were to be protected on Alfheim.

Everyone in Asgard was prepared. As they should be. Warriors off all ages assembled together in the grand hall, departing from their families. They all wore thick furs to protect themselves from freezing cold they were going to be facing.

Everyone was ready. Some were eager to rip apart some Frost Giants, while others put on a brave face, although feeling completely terrified to be going into war on such short notice. But one thing they all could agree on: they didn't want to leave their families that they may never see again.

The council had known about the impending war for the past three weeks. They had notified the public of this matter only two days prior to departure. However, it was no matter. These warriors were prepared for anything anyone had to offer. They were trained for this.

Soon after their brisk good-byes to their loved ones, the warriors moved to the Bifrost. Odin and Frigga stayed behind until the very end. Frigga had tears in her eyes, but she would not shed one. She was strong, Odin knew this, which is why he would be the one to lead the warriors from all four realms into Jotunheim and put a stop to their destruction. Kristhallr had offered to be the one to lead, but his wife would not hear of it. It was extremely dangerous to be in the front lines. She knew this. The other men of the council would stay as back up, if they were needed.

Odin could see the large group of children and elders, waiting to go to Alfheim. In the crowd, he could see shuffling, then children falling, then a young boy with blond locks racing towards him.

"Father! Father!," His only son screamed wildly at the top of his lungs. He finally made it through the crowd, short of breath, but smiling widely. "I have not said good-bye yet. How long will you be gone?" he asked, with such innocence in his voice. His piecing eyes waited for answer.

Odin and Frigga gave a small smile, saddened to each other. Odin bent down to the three year old, taking his little hands in his rough, calloused ones. He spoke to him in a reassuring voice, "I will come back as soon as I can, Thor. You must be strong while I am away," he said, brushing Thor's blonde hair from his face. He then added seriously, "and no trouble. You must be respectful, do you understand?"

Thor looked at his father with a much more serious look, "I will, Father," He said. Then with a grin,"I will make you proud!" And with that, he embraced his father greatly for a moment, then let go. He gave his mother an even longer hug. She kissed his cheeks as he pulled away.

"Everything will be alright, sweetheart," Frigga said, lovingly. "You will be as safe as can be."

And with that, Thor ran back to the group and awaited their arrival on Alfheim.

* * *

Silence. The streets of Asgard were completely silent. Everyone was locked away in their homes, including Frigga. When the warriors set foot on Jotunheim land, the Jotuns retreated from Midgard at once to protect their realm. But as soon as they did, the hid themselves from Heimdall's view once more. Everyone back on Asgard waited for news. Some sort of message of information. But they received nothing. Until three months after their departure. Jotunheim's veil dropped from a split second, but that's all it took. What Heimdall saw was unspeakable and gruesome. Bloodshed was all around the warriors...but they were alive.

* * *

 _11 months later 965 A.D_

They had won. It had been grueling and tiresome and exhausting...but they had won. Which they knew they would. Yet they had lost some too: warriors, limbs,...hope. Kristhallr had been killed as well. No matter what measures his wife took to protect him, it was not match for the barren wasteland that took his life. But in the end, they had won. And all that mattered to them at that moment was returning to their families. And eventually celebrating. A very grand celebratory celebration. One to remember for years to come.

It had come down to a treaty. Once they had taken the Casket of Ancient Winters from the Jotuns, they promised not to destroy the rest of Jotunheim and everyone on it if they would keep their peace with the rest of the nine realms. They had reluctantly agreed to the Asgardian's terms of the treaty.

They left Jotunheim groups, for Heimdall could not transport them all at once. Odin, Tyr, and a small group of eleven warriors were the only ones left. They stood in the outskirts of Jotunheim, waiting for Heimdall to take them home.

Tyr was Odin's most trusted commander and general. He had a bit of a temper and was quite rash, but that is exactly what was needed to be great at what he did. He knew how to take down any enemy's defense. Break the enemy as much as they needed.

As they waited, they were silent. They had nothing to say to each. This was a time to mourn those who were lost in battle and had sacrifice their lives to protect those around them. To protect those at home. To protect the nine realms. They gave this moment of silence to the deceased, or at least tried to...

…...From afar, however, they could hear the wailing of a small child...

 _So what do you think? I'd love some commentary on how I did. To be honest, I have no idea how to write a story, so I'm not sure if this is completely terrible or ehh okay. If you have any questions regarding where this is going, then feel free to ask away! Thank you for reading! I should be continuing soon, that's if you all think I should?_


	2. An Unexpected Gift

A.N: Hello again! I'm back with another chapter. I want to mention a few things before we start. So, at the moment, I have a brief idea as to where I want this story to go. I mainly want to build on the story I've started and then go from there. When I get to the time line in which the movies would start (Thor, The Avengers) I will be interpreting them differently to fit what I've written. However, it will _generally_ be the same. (Not sure if this makes sense at all, but...ya). Also!...I'm thinking about uploading a chapter every Friday. If I miss a Friday, I'll definitely upload the following Tuesday. Well... that's about it! Thank you for reading!

* * *

 _As they waited, they were silent. They had nothing to say to each. This was a time to mourn those who were lost in battle and had sacrifice their lives to protect those around them. To protect those at home. To protect the nine realms. They gave this moment of silence to the deceased, or at least tried to..._

… _...From afar, however, they could hear the wailing of a small child..._

Odin and Tyr look at each other with bewildered expressions. From afar, the crying of a babe could be heard in the distance. No one should be out this far from the main part of Jotunheim, especially after a war. Especially not a child.

The crying wouldn't stop. It seemed as if hours had passed by, but in reality it had only been about fifteen minutes. But it had been a long fifteen minutes. Its cry seemed to echo off the icy walls and shoot directly into their eardrums. By this time the wailing had gotten onto Tyr's last nerve.

"That's it! I'm finding that infuriating, little creature and cutting its throat!", he started after the sound, while the remaining warriors stood there confused; unsure of whether they should follow their general or stay with the All-father.

Odin spoke calmly," Leave it be, Tyr. We mustn't shed anymore blood," Odin had never been bother by violence. But after this war, he couldn't stand the thought of it.

Tyr must not have heard him because he continued to follow the bawling infant. Odin started after Tyr, and the other warriors followed him. He turned around to face them, "You stay here and wait for Heimdall."

They all nodded and turned back to their previous place. Heimdall was supposed to have taken them back by now.

When Odin finally reached Tyr, he placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Tyr, we mustn't kill anymore. Thousands of lives have been lost in these past months. Haven't you seen enough death?", Odin spoke with a softness that hadn't been heard from the king in ages.

Tyr looked back over his shoulder to the other warriors, "I have indeed seen a great deal of death, but all these repulsive creatures deserve to be slaughtered! They've harmed and killed more lives then should have been allowed! And now you want to me spare this one's life? Why? So it can wreak havoc when it gets older? You owe it to your people and the people of the realms to-" He was cut off abruptly by a rumbling deep within the ground.

"Heimdall will be ready for us soon, Tyr. We must go. Now." Odin spoke with a sternness in his voice that no one dared go against. Except Tyr, of course.

"I'm doing it, All-father. I will not let that thing live another moment." Tyr stalked toward the frozen, domed cave where the sound seemed to come from. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small dagger.

Odin had had enough, "Stop Tyr. You will not go a step further, or you can plan on staying here." He glared at Tyr's back. Tyr stopped dead in his tracks.

"You don't mean that," he said.

"But I do. You will not be returning to Asgard if you dare kill that child. Turn around. Let us go now."

When Tyr turned back around to face Odin, his face was a tomato-red from frustration, "Fine. As you wish, All-father." They was much sarcasm laced within his voice. But then he gave an unsympathetic chuckle, "Let it freeze to death, by all means." He stalked past Odin toward the warriors, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Fine Tyr. Give me the damn dagger. I'll put an end to its misery myself." Odin held out his hand and waited for the hilt of the dagger to be placed in his palm. Odin kept a calm look upon his face, hoping Tyr wouldn't be skeptical.

Tyr turned and looked back at him with suspicion, "You want end its miserable life? Not a moment ago you wanted to spare it. Why the sudden change?"

Odin took a deep breathe before answering, "You've made your point. It has no reason to keep breathing. I want to be the one to do it, however. Please return back to the others, and if Heimdall sends for you, go without me. I'll be there shortly."

Tyr made no effort to go against the All-father anymore than he had. He knew he had crossed many boundaries in the previous moments, and hoped Odin wouldn't punish him or even exile him to Jotunheim of all places. Tyr tossed the dagger to Odin and strode off.

As Odin watch Tyr walk back to the other, he himself turned on his heel and strode toward the icy cave. He pocketed the dagger, and spoke in a hushed voice, "Heimdall, let them leave without me."

As he approached the entrance of the ice cave, he noticed two things: the babe's cries had turned into quiet whimpers and hiccups, and there was not a single soul inside the cave that he could see. It was completely void of life, except for his and the babe's.

The cave was massive. Every step he took he could hear an echo that lasted enough to be noticeable. He quickly scanned the area of the cave for the babe. After minutes of walking aimlessly in the cave, he soon felt as if he had been hearing things. Then again, Tyr had certainly heard the crying, as well as the rest of the warriors.

The child's quiet whimpers where the only things that prevented him from getting lost in the maze of ice walls. At some points, the child wouldn't make a noise, and he immediately thought the child had finally worn itself out and died. In a sadistic way, he had hoped that was the case. He hated the thought of a child in so much distress, even a Jotun's child.

As he walked he came to a small, circular area. It seemed colder in this part of the cave. The child's whimpers started up once more, and he followed the sounds. As he came closer the cries, they came more urgent, louder.

He finally found the tiny babe. But what he found he was not expecting. As he had suspected, the child was of Jotun descent. It was smaller than what a Jotun infants should be; more the size of a mortal child. The babe had medium-blue skin, with raised markings across it's forehead and chest. It was shaking fiercely from the cold, for Jotun infants are not immune to the cold as older Jotuns are. It's tiny nose and ears were tipped in a darker shade of blue, indicating it had been out here for some time.

Odin hadn't been paying much attention to anything surrounding him or the babe. When he looked up from the child, his heart suck to his feet. He was in the middle of the circle. The infant was in the center of that circle, surrounded by cravings in the ice. And in the crevasses of those cravings, was blood.

Although he didn't know what the all of cravings meant, it wasn't too hard to decipher. Some of them he could understand, like "to the gods" and "the kismet of Jotunheim". Sacrificial runes no doubt. Most likely in hopes of bringing good luck to win the war. But if one had been prepare to give up their child to the gods, they wouldn't have used just any Jotun child. Not even a hundred children. They would have used a child of greatness. A prince or princess. Laufey's child.

Odin's eyes reverted back to the child. It was still shaking and giving small hiccups as it stared intensely at Odin, seeming to expect him to do something perhaps. The babe's bottom lip started to quiver, indicating it was going to start crying again. Odin immediately did what he thought would calm the babe; he picked it up.

As soon as he did, he regretted it. He had completely disregarded the fact that it's skin could potentially burn him. But the burn never came. However, the child's bleary eyes changed. And so did its skin. The infant turned from blue skin and blood red eyes to pale skin and emerald green eyes.

Odin was mesmerized by this sudden transformation. He hadn't done anything to alter the appearance of the child. Perhaps it possessed magic. But how could a newborn have enough magic to change its form? It was unbelievable.

The child had finally calmed down some, and had already started to drift off to sleep in Odin arms. But it was still shivering from the cold, biting air. Odin took off one of the furs he had been wearing and wrapped the child in it. The child's breathing slowed into a deep sleep, all the while keeping its pale skin..

After several moments of watching the child sleep peacefully and safely in his arms, Odin was overwhelmed with a wave of emotion. He had never been the emotional type, nor should he be. He was the king of a realm. The last thing he needed was being looked at as weak or sensitive; unfit to rule the most powerful realms known. But in this moment when it was only him and this abandoned child, he couldn't help but feel deep despair. This innocent child was left to die in the bitter cold; left to die alone. To suffer for who knows how long before it just gave up on trying to live. It angered him so much. He thought of his own son, and knew he would never sentence his child to death in hopes of gaining good fortune. It was senseless. It was despicable.

In that instant, he knew what he was going to do. He didn't need to think on it, or even consider the risks of it. He knew deep in his heart that this was the right thing to do. He started back to the entrance of the cave, and walked back toward were he was before he had heard the child's desperate cries. He hadn't realized it at the time, but he had been in the cave with the child for at least a couple of hours. Tyr and the warriors had left, as he had told them to do so. They were home, and soon he would be too. Home to his wife. To his son. He called upon Heimdall to take him back to Asgard. Not moments latter, he was in the observatory, the child still tucked warmly beneath furs in his arms.

* * *

The observatory was quiet and slightly illuminated in gold. Odin hadn't been in the observatory for months, so upon arriving in the large room, it was a wave of relief that had washed over him. He had made it home. He had fortunately not been killed in battle, although he had come back with one eye absent. But he was alive, and soon would be reunited with his wife, his child, and his people.

Heimdall should silently in the center of the observatory, staring out into the opening that led to the void from which he could observe the nine realms. It was quite beautiful; the void. To most, it would seem as though open, black nothingness was nothing too fascinating, but to Heimdall, it was marvelously captivating. Its vast openness and unforeseen enigmas made Heimdall have a sort of fondness for it.

But no one truly knew what hidden within the void. Not even Heimdall himself, for it was completely void of color and sound. No one dared go near the void, fearing if they fell in, they would never see the light of day again. But no one had ever gone into the void to see if their theory was true. There was no need to. It was an obvious observation.

As Odin looked around the observatory, he noticed Heimdall's gazed had turned toward him and the bundle wrapped in his arms. Heimdall was never one to judge. He was never one to ask either. He always kept to himself, which is why Odin had always favored him. He was never distracted from his job with others' lives.

Although this time, Heimdall seemed curious, "Welcome home, All-father. I am delighted to see you in one piece. I hope all went well."

"Thank you, Heimdall. Yes all went well, however we have lost many. I have made a treaty with King Laufey, which is effective. Please report to me if you see any rebels making plans of attack. We do not need another war on our hands." Odin spoke with such tiredness that Heimdall wonder if he collapse right onto the floor.

Heimdall looked straight into Odin's eyes, his golden eyes showing his knowledge of everything spoken and unspoken, "May I advise that you return to your kingdom as quickly as possible. Queen Frigga has been asking about you, worried as to why you hadn't come back with the rest of the warriors." Heimdall stole a glance at the fur that concealed the babe.

Odin spoke gently and with thought, "I shall return as soon as possible. But first, I have matters to speak with you Heimdall. As you have seen, I did not leave Jotunheim alone."

Heimdall took a deep breath before replying, "Yes, my king, I have. But it is not my business as to what your plans are or what you do. You know what's best for this realm."

"But it is your business, Heimdall. You know about this. I need you to not speak of this child, for I do not know what our people would do if they knew an enemy's child was on Asgardian ground. And brought here by their king. That would not go over well with them. I wish to keep this peace not only with neighboring realms, but within our own realm as well." Odin said with a certain urgency lacing his voice. He knew the consequence of his actions could be detrimental to their realm.

Heimdall nodded with understanding and agreement, "I will not speak of this matter to anyone, not even to you my king, unless you ask that of me. But if I may be so bold...what do you plan to do with the child?"

Odin took a few moments before answering honesty, "I am not quite sure Heimdall."

* * *

The streets of Asgard were still and vacant. All the warriors were in their homes, either alone or with their wives. Many of them were probably counting down the days until they would see their child and families again. They were wary and disturbed from the horrors that had seen during battle. They had seen countless of their acquaintances and close friends brutally killed. They were relieved that the battle was over. Now all they hoped for was normalcy once again.

Odin walked into the grand hall that had been used for celebrations among their friends and family. But it had been abandoned for months, so the large room lacked warmth. Although it was winter, at this time, the room should have been filled with laughter and the smell of food and glass smashing on the floors followed by men yelling "Another!"

Odin looked through about half of the rooms in search of his queen. Then when he reached Thor's room, he could hear quiet sobs coming from within. He quietly peaked through the crack of the door and spotted his beloved Frigga, sitting on the bed; her face in her hands, crying.

He opened the door a little wider until she notice the movement. She peaked up from her hands and saw her husband. She immediately got off the bed and ran towards him, her arms ready to embrace him. But Odin took a few steps back away from her.

Frigga looked at him, confused. Then she noticed his eye and gave a choked-up sob. She walked a little more slowly over to him, but he still kept his distance from her. She was completely unaware of the child he was holding.

She looked at him with confusion and anger, "Odin, where have you been?! The messengers had reported that you and the warriors would be returning home. That was hours ago! I have been worried sick that you might have been killed or injured let to die!" She was still quietly weeping as she said this.

Odin gave a comforting smile, one that held much weariness, "I am so sorry, Frigga. I did not mean to cause you any worry while I was away. I was caught up in another important situation that needed my immediate attention." He wasn't sure how she was going to handle this news, and was keen on telling her, afraid of a negative response from his wife.

She had lost all anger, but her confusion remained, "What matter could be more important than coming home to your wife? What has happened?"

Odin slowly walked toward Frigga, while doing so revealed the small, sleeping baby in the fur. She walked closer to see what he was showing her, and when she saw, she gave a breathy gasp. Her brows furrowed together, trying to grasp the reasoning behind Odin holding a mortal baby. Had the Jotuns taken this child from Midgard? They must have. How else did it get there?

She looked up to his face, shaking her head slightly, "Is this a mortal child? Where did you find it? Is this the situation that needed attention?" She asked him softly.

Odin shook his head slowly, which only caused more bewildered Frigga even more, "This was the situation I was resolving. But this child is not a mortal, but of Jotun descent. Possibly Laufey's child." Odin was completely serious in telling Frigga this, which scarred her even more.

Her entire demeanor changed from confusion to dread, "Oh Norns Odin, what have you done? How could you take this child right after a war like this?! What were you-"

Odin cut her off, "You do not understand why this child is with me now. It was about to die in a frozen temple. This child was an offering in hopes of good luck or of winning that damn war. I couldn't let this infant die alone. What other choice did I have?!"

Frigga took a breath to clam her. She looked around the room, trying to collect her thoughts, "Are you sure it's Laufey's child?" She looked at him with pleading eyes.

"They would have sacrificed a child of royal decent. And as far as I could tell from the runes, it's Laufey's heir. Or was."

Frigga glanced at the babe once more giving a small smile, "How did you manage change him into Aesir? He's a quite lovely baby." She came close enough to touch a finger onto the baby's soft cheeks.

Odin looked at with curiosity, "How do you know this child is 'he'?

Frigga laughed quietly, "A mother is always so perceptive when it comes to children. But you haven't answered my question: how did you manage to change him from his Jotun form to Aesir?" Odin nodded, knowing his wife was most likely right, as she always was.

"I did not need to change anything about him, for he did this all himself. He posses much power and magic. Just as you do." He offered a knowing smile. Frigga was the most skilled sorceress in all of Asgard. She was in complete awe of this child already.

"That is amazing. It's not uncommon for child of Aesir descent to have some amount of magic, but this babe has an unfathomable amount of power," She gave the child a beautifully genuine smile; one that only a mother could give ",He is truly extraordinary. And such a gorgeous, lovely face," She looked up at Odin with large, pleading eyes, "May I hold him?"

Odin nodded and promptly, yet gently placed the sleeping babe into her ready arms. The moment the child was in her hold, he opened his tired eyes and starred directly into Frigga's eyes. She held her breath, unsure of what to do. She was afraid of startling him, so she didn't make a move.

The baby's big, emerald green eyes scanned Frigga's face, but then gradually fell back into his deep sleep. Frigga let out a shaky breath, while her eyes started to fill with tears. This little child was perfect. So, so perfect. She already falling in love with him, even within the short time. There was already a strong, unyielding bond between them, and she wanted to kept it that way.

She spoke again, "So when will tell Thor? I mean how should we tell him?"

Odin looked at her with amazement, "You wish to kept this child? To make him part of our family?"

"Without a doubt. I know for a fact that he will bring us much joy to our lives, and ours to his." Frigga's tears started to fall on her cheeks, as she looked down at the peaceful baby resting in her arms.

Odin smiled, "Well, I guess we shall tell Thor the moment he arrives that he has a brother."

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So, what do you think? Please leave a review and tell me what I should change or keep or anything! And I want to give all that reviewed, followed, and favorited a HUGE thank you! It means a lot that you took the time to actually read my sad, little story haha... Anyways, like before, if you have any suggestions as to what you'd like to see in this story, please feel free to let me know! And if you have any questions, do ask away! Hope you enjoyed :)


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